


Charmless Man

by hingabee, PunishedPyotr



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: Alcohol, Ambiguous Relationships, Crack Treated Seriously, Denial of Feelings, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, False Identity, Jealousy, Liquid is so small and his feelings are so big, M/M, Oral Sex, Political Parties, Possibly Unrequited Love, Relationship Problems, Seduction, The Nanny References, too many horses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-02-25
Packaged: 2021-03-16 05:47:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29695950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hingabee/pseuds/hingabee, https://archiveofourown.org/users/PunishedPyotr/pseuds/PunishedPyotr
Summary: Liquid Snake gets send on a undercover mission to wine and dine a prim and proper English lady who is suspected of being an evil government spy. Too bad he has no clue about women, or impersonation, or posh political parties. And on top of everything... there's thatthingwith Mantis.
Relationships: Liquid Snake/Original Female Character, Liquid Snake/Psycho Mantis
Comments: 7
Kudos: 5





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this was essentially just a very goofy idea that somehow turned into a long ass oneshot, i split it in two parts for easier reading but it wasnt written as seperate chapters so the cut off might sound a little odd... thanks for reading though, be sure to leave a comment if you like! :)
> 
> title by blur

Although knowing that this was not a standard FOXHOUND mission, Liquid, always eager to take a challenge, had thought that he would be able to handle this just fine.

Staring down at the naked woman's body below him, evidently, he was _not_.

* * *

It all had started with a dubious call coming in that created a huge fuss among the unit. Before Liquid had even had the information relayed to him personally, Octopus had stomped into his office in nothing but pajamas, clearly pissed off and ranting about how his work obviously wasn't appreciated nor needed if the brass kept deciding to assign missions _clearly_ designed to utilize _his_ abilities to "some other amateur".

It turned out that this "amateur" was in fact Liquid. Octopus had calmed down a little, still glaring at Liquid when Ocelot finally arrived with the full instructions for the mission, coldly informing Octopus that it had to be someone other than him, considering Octopus had been quite spectacularly sick with the flu for the past few weeks.

Octopus denied this vehemently before breaking out into an impressive coughing fit after which he decided to take a spiteful nap on the small, uncomfortable couch in Liquid's office.

"Ocelot, I understand that we need to send someone to spy on the target and extract information," Liquid began, pinching the bridge of his nose and took a sip from his tea. "but don't you think it's kind of ridiculous to drop these missions onto us? I mean, don't they have a special unit that _isn't_ chronically understaffed?"

"Well, they originally did want Octopus for it, but you're our next best choice. And considering Raven and Mantis are terrible actors – don't give me that look, boss – I don't see any other option but to agree."

Liquid glared. "Why can't Wolf go? Or you? I have a lot of paperwork to take care of." Truthfully, he always did. Mostly because he kept stalling. 

Ocelot cleared his throat noisily. "Wolf is a _woman_ and I'm afraid that while I would've had no qualms to take over this in my prime... I've simply grown out of the accepted age range for a mission like this."

Liquid raised his eyebrow at him. "Why would her being a woman keep her from taking an intel mission? And you're constantly off base to handle things not even _I'm_ authorized to look into, anyway! Why would you suddenly turn down an opportunity to get away from work for a week? What's so god damn special about this mission that they have to send me of all people?"

"If I were you I'd be flattered." Ocelot noted. "You're not exactly a natural at acting, either. You seem to be missing the point about why Wolf being a woman and my age disqualifies us from this assignment.”

“What? What point? What am I missing?” Liquid said, annoyed.

“You’re going to have to seduce the target to get the intel out of her, boss.”

Liquid stared at Ocelot for a moment, then frowned. “I’ve never really, erm, used that technique myself.”

“I’m sure Octopus can give you pointers before you go. It shouldn’t be hard. Evidently you’re this woman’s type as it is. All you’ll need to do is show up and play the curious lover for the night. Even if you can’t get her to talk directly, it’s still a good way to sneak into her room.”

“Hmm.” Liquid wasn’t happy about this to begin with, but hearing Ocelot talk about it was only making his mood worse. “Well, if she likes men with long hair-“

“I told you,” Ocelot said, rolling his eyes, “I’m too old.” He handed Liquid the operation file. “You’ll have a week to prepare.”

“Would it kill the brass to give us a decent timeframe once in a while?” Liquid said, flipping through the folder. Admittedly it wouldn’t be very complicated to prepare for this - the infiltration point was to be a fancy black-tie party at the residence of some foreign diplomat who was suspected to be spying on the US government or something. Liquid was skimming. He found a photo of her.

Well, at least she was good-looking, and thankfully closer to his age than Ocelot’s. She had a pale, symmetrical face, with striking green eyes and long, wavy, well-styled hair a shade more red than auburn. He couldn’t see much of her body in the photograph but judging by her shoulders she was at least fairly slim.

He flipped back to her description. Gillian Amelia Oxley, from London, England. Oxford-educated British diplomat residing in Washington, D.C. The idea that someone from the United Kingdom, one of America’s closest allies, was spying on the US was so preposterous that they had to send in FOXHOUND to investigate it with the utmost subtlety and plausible deniability. There was a strong possibility that, if she really was spying, she was leaking intel to a third government. The alternative, Liquid supposed, was that after almost 250 years the UK had decided to take back the colonies.

Ocelot was peering blandly at him when he looked up from the file. “Well, boss?” he said.

“Well what?” Liquid said, a little defensively, caught off guard.

“Do you think you can do this?”

“Of course I can. When you said they thought I was her type - did you mean she prefers her own countrymen?”

“They didn’t specify,” Ocelot said, in a tone of voice that made it clear that they _did_ specify but it was something that Liquid wouldn’t want to hear.

Still grumbling, but buoyed slightly at the fact that his target was an attractive Brit, Liquid dismissed Ocelot and attempted to wake up Octopus, who only rolled over and demanded five more minutes. He was sick, so Liquid cut him some slack. For now.

While Liquid technically didn't have any other option but to accept the mission and start preparing for it, there was one glaring issue he had to take care of first.

Though his personal quarters were a little ways off, he still stalked there as quickly and inconspicuous as he could manage, softly closing the door behind him and switching on the lights.

"... what are you doing here, shouldn't you be at work?" He asked dumbly, looking down at Mantis' dark figure lounging on his bed with a worn book clutched between his gloved hands.

"I'm reading." 

"In the _dark?_ " 

Mantis scoffed, slightly annoyed, and finally raised his head to meet Liquid's eyes. 

"What is it, boss?" He asked, and Liquid wasn't sure if he could remember Mantis ever addressing him that nonchalantly before. Maybe he was just being paranoid. 

"Ah– I... Mantis, if you're uncomfortable with this I will turn the mission down, of course."

"I'm pretty sure that this would have grave consequences not just for you, but the entire unit."

Liquid shook his head. "I'm sure it'll be fine. Maybe Octopus will already have recovered in a few days and then–"

"Boss," Mantis interrupted, more sternly now. "I really do not mind... it. You're a professional, I trust your judgement on this. It's just another mission."

" _Just another mission_..." Liquid repeated flatly, feeling oddly defeated as he slumped down on the bed beside Mantis.

Maybe he had come here to offer to withdraw for his own sake, maybe he had subconsciously sought to use Mantis' discomfort as an excuse to find a way out of this.

It wasn't that he absolutely hated the idea of going – or spending time with a pretty woman for that matter – but he still felt it was very... inadequate considering the nature of Mantis' and his relationship.

Hell, perhaps he even was a little upset Mantis _didn't_ protest against this.

Despite being closer than most– er, _childhood friends_ , it was a mutually accepted fact that there was nothing more than that between them. They cared a lot for each other and were certainly not shy about showing it, but there was no real romance or commitment. Mantis had been quite clear on this point, actually. Liquid had been fine with this - it didn’t prevent them from having sex when Mantis was in the rare mood - but now it just depressed him.

“Stop moping,” Mantis suddenly snapped. "We are not monogamously committed, so I have no reason to care if you sleep with someone else!”

“Then why are you so upset?” Liquid said defensively.

“Do you think I _like_ hearing your thoughts when you’re like this?”

“I didn’t ask you to read my mind. You did that on your own - like you always do!”

“Then perhaps you should not think so loud,” Mantis said coldly, turning away from him. “Get out.”

“Mantis-“

“I said get out!”

“These are my quarters!”

“You have some _practicing_ to do with Octopus, don’t you?” Mantis said nastily, throwing Liquid’s blanket up over his head like a grumpy child.

With a psychic shove, Liquid was sent toppling backwards out the door, which locked behind him. He huffed, getting up and smoothing his pants. He didn’t want to deal with Mantis right now.

* * *

Octopus was still kind of upset about the entire situation, though Liquid actively asking him for advice and guidance seemed to flatter him enough to put his personal grievances aside.

"Alright. Did the guys up top give you any information on your role? Name? Age? Background?"

Liquid handed him a cup of tea and sat down to solemnly nurse his own. "Not really. I guess I'm supposed to pretend to be some posh and proper lad like the rest of them..."

Frowning, Octopus went through the assignment instructions, carelessly dripping tea onto it. "You're not _pretending_ , boss. You are _becoming_ that person for the course of the mission. If you can't internalise your role as an extension of yourself you're setting yourself up for failure."

"So... I have to make up my own character now?"

"Eh, it's just like those bastards to not give you any pointers." Octopus wiped his reddened face with the back of his hand. "Though, usually I just impersonate existing people, that requires less creativity and way more dedication. So I can see why they're getting lazy and just pass it off on you."

Liquid made a face. He wasn't exactly the creative type.

"Relax, boss. I'll help you come up with something. I know! Let's start with the name! Any preferences?"

"Um, well, I can't use my birth name, right?"

Octopus just stared at him for a moment, then shook his head slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

"Alright, alright. So it's gotta be a British name, right?"

"That seems like it'd be the best option, yes."

Liquid thought about for a moment, then grinned at Octopus, eyes bright. "How about 'Maxwell Sheffield'?"

“So we’re just assuming that no one, absolutely no one, at the party will have seen ‘The Nanny’?”

Liquid grumbled. “Well, I don’t know. How am I supposed to come up with a name? A baby name book? We don’t have any of those around here.”

“Actually, I have one. But you shouldn’t need it, for God’s sake. You _are_ British. You should be able to come up with a British name.”

“I can do a pretty good Irish accent-”

“Just stick with English, boss.”

Liquid thought for a moment. “James…” he said slowly.

“I swear to God if the next word out of your mouth is ‘Bond’--”

“...Pemberton.”

Octopus nodded. “Posh enough to be believable and generic enough that no one will realize they don’t already know you. Just make sure you drill it into your head. If anyone so much as sneezes ‘Jim’ around you you need to respond.”

“Er… right. I’ve used fake names before, I can do that.”

Octopus gave him a critical look, rubbing his chin. “Of course it’s going to take more than just a fancy name for people to believe you’re some old-money colonial blueblood. At least you’ve already got the affected accent.”

“My accent is not _affected_ ,” Liquid said indignantly.

“You grew up in London, boss.”

"I had it drilled into me from a young age to speak properly! It's not affected!"

Octopus rolled his eyes. "Boss, I've heard you curse about when you got injured before. You absolutely slip back into sounding like a bratty, prepubescent London–"

"Alright! I get it." Liquid glared at him. "Is a posh name enough, though? Maybe I should claim nobility?"

"That's too risky. An honorary Knight could work, I suppose. Nowadays the British Crown knights anyone who has enough money or prestige..." Octopus paused. "Did I ever tell you about the time me and Sir Elton John–"

"Octopus. Focus."

Liquid begrudgingly had to admit that coming up with an entire backstory for his role was surprisingly entertaining. He had to take notes, of course, because while he was pretty good at remembering random details he absolutely was sure he would forget the name of James' third sister's pet rabbit, if siblings ever were to come up. 

"So, what are his sexual preferences? Is he into any weird stuff?" Octopus asked nonchalantly after they had most of James' biography figured out. 

Liquid awkwardly cleared his throat. "Uh, excuse me?" 

"Boss, you're supposed to get close enough to seduce that girl. You're aware that you might have to actually sleep with her, right?" 

Cringing, Liquid shrugged. "I was kinda hoping that I'd be lucky and she'll just spill the beans if I flirted a little. Laid it on thick, y'know? "

"Aw, come on." Octopus put on an English accent, clearly enjoying himself too much. "She's pretty lush, surely a stallion like our dear Jim here wouldn't turn down the chance to properly plow a Lady of her caliber." 

"And you say my accent sounds bad." Liquid crossed his arms. 

Octopus laughed until he started coughing again. "Boss, if you can't commit to having sex with a stranger then you can just stay home and forget about this mission from the start."

"But– I just think this is kind of inappropriate to ask of me! I'm military, not some kind of... honeypot." 

"The chaste virgin act doesn't suit you, boss." 

Liquid threw his hands up, frustrated. "It's not an act! Don't you ever question the morality of shagging some unknowing stranger for ulterior motives?" 

Octopus stared at him. 

"...no?" 

"You can not seriously believe that conning a stranger into sleeping with you could _possibly_ be considered consensual!?"

“Honestly, boss, does it _matter?_ If all goes well, by the time Miss Oxley finds out ‘James Pemberton’ is a fiction, she’ll have much bigger problems on her hands - such as high treason charges, for example.”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better. She seems like a nice lady.”

“You’ve only seen her picture.”

“She _looks_ nice.”

Octopus gave him an exasperated look. “You’ve dealt with snobby aristocratic types before. You know how bitchy they are.”

“But-”

“Don’t assume she’s anything different just because you think she’s hot and you’ve been ordered to sleep with her.”

“I wasn’t _ordered_ to sleep with her and I don’t even _want_ to sleep with her!”

“Oh, don’t pretend, boss! You definitely want to.”

“Not under false pretenses!”

Octopus rolled his eyes exaggeratedly. “If you’re trying to stop Mantis from getting mad, lying and denying won’t help. He can read your mind.”

“I know that. W-Wait, why do you think Mantis would be mad?” Liquid said, suddenly flustered.

“Uhh, because you two are practically married and you’re mooning over this diplomat?”

“What! It’s not- I’m not-- I mean it’s not like that, we--!!”

“Oh, he already got mad at you, huh?” Octopus frowned for a moment, then unscrewed his Nyquil and drank some straight from the bottle. Liquid was pretty sure he was not supposed to do that. “Forget it, boss. Let’s do some roleplay, see how well you can stick to the James character.”

“...alright. I thought you were going to grill me on manners or something first.”

“We can do that later, staying in-character is way more important and also I’m gonna pass out in like fifteen minutes anyway.”

“Are you sure you wouldn’t rather have Dayquil?”

When Octopus subsequently fell asleep in his office Liquid decided not to bother him further, it was already past midnight and the man was, well, sick.

Sadly no amount of sleep seemed to help Octopus improve, his flu didn't seem to get better at all and the days passed with him and Liquid spending so much time together that Liquid was convinced that by the time the mission rolled by he would be sick as well.

"Don't worry, boss." Octopus told him as they covered his dancing etiquette (both were surprised to find out that Liquid was really good at it) "My shitty little virus is no match against your genetically enhanced immune system."

He would've never admitted it to anyone, but picking out his outfits was probably his favourite part of the entire ordeal. Sure, he did have a suit for formal events but it was ill-fitted and uncomfortable. Octopus on the other hand had a whole array of varying fancy outfits that surprisingly fit him well, though the fancy Burberry suit he eventually settled on needed a few adjustments here and there. After taking some measurements Octopus got his trusty sewing machine out and fitted the suit neatly to Liquid's body to "perfectly accentuate his assets".

He didn't dare ask which _assets_ Octopus was referring to in particular.

The last day before his departure came in a flash, he busied himself with rehearsing his role again and again until Octopus finally christened his performance as "acceptable". And honestly, Liquid was kinda proud of himself. He'd always been good at adjusting to new demanding situations, sure, but this was very much outside of his usual roster of abilities and while he was terribly anxious about the whole thing, he had built up a healthy amount of confidence (mostly thanks to Octopus' sniffled praise) regarding the mission.

All that, however, immediately washed away as he stepped into his quarters that evening, finding Mantis curled up beneath his blankets.

To say that things had been awkward between them would have been a massive understatement.

“Haven’t seen you around here lately,” Liquid said, trying to sound casual.

“Of course not, you’ve been spending every night with Octopus.”

“There’s a lot of information and techniques we have to go over…”

“You’re having fun with this.” It was a simple statement - a fact, not an opinion.

“Just the dressing up and going to a fancy party aspect,” Liquid said defensively, “if anything I’ve been trying to _avoid_ the thought of shagging some--”

“Do not worry about it, boss.”

“Eh?”

Mantis peeked up at him. “I do not mind. I support you. I always support you in your assignments, you know that.”

“I… I see,” Liquid said.

“I am sorry about last week. I should not have lashed out at you, it isn’t your fault. You are only doing your job and I know that this Oxley woman does not actually mean anything to you.”

“Of course not, but…” Liquid blinked several times. It was very rare for Mantis to apologize for anything, least of all being insensitive.

Mantis huffed. “I do not want you to head off tomorrow morning thinking I am still upset with you. You need to be on your best behavior, after all. I don’t want to be a distraction.”

“You’re not a distraction…”

“Why can’t you just accept my apology?” Mantis said, getting annoyed again. “Eli, I don’t _care_ if you sleep with some government whore as part of a mission. It was unfair of me to insert myself into your business like this and put so much pressure on you when you are literally only trying to do your job.”

The use of his given name shut Liquid up. “Right…” he said slowly, “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have anything to apologize for.”

“Well, I was kind of moody about it last week, wasn’t I?”

Mantis shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.”

Liquid huffed and slid under the covers, ushering Mantis a little to the side.

"So... we're alright, right?" he asked at length.

Mantis nodded and when Liquid gave him a pitiful look rolled his eyes, settling against his shoulder.

"You'll do fine, Eli. I know you're worried about the whole, er, 'consent' thing but it's not like your slipping her a roofie."

Cringing, Liquid anxiously wound his fingers into the fabric of Mantis' shirt. Somehow those words only made him feel worse.

"Eli... you won't have to do anything you don't want to do. And besides, she's the enemy, isn't she? You don't usually fret about harming your opponents."

If Liquid detected any irritation in Mantis' voice he chose not to comment on it. 

"This is different..." he mumbled. 

Mantis sat up and eyed him dubiously. "Because she's a woman? Boss, please. You never had an issue with that."

"No! I just don't usually _sleep_ with the enemy. It's _weird_."

Truth be told, the only person he had slept with in recent years was sitting next to him. Liquid felt sheepish. Maybe he wasn't just fretting about the whole sex thing itself, but more specifically the "seduction" aspect of it. He wasn't exactly experienced when it came to women, or at least ones that didn't point a gun in his face as a greeting.

Sure, Octopus had given him some advice (some of which so explicit that Liquid would rather forget about it, really) but as things stood it would have been way more convenient for his target to be male.

Mantis’ eyes softened behind his mask. "Hey, don't worry, boss. You're very handsome and can be quite charming if you put the effort into it. I know for a fact that many women are interested in you."

Liquid raised an eyebrow.

"I read their minds. I don't talk to women unless I have to. "

He couldn't help himself. "...who?"

"There's a reason I didn't tell you. You always get uncomfortable when strangers are into you, especially if you didn't initiate."

Grinning, Liquid pulled Mantis back against him. "You're just jealous." 

Mantis scoffed but didn't deny it and started to gently stroke Liquid's hair. 

Liquid leaned into the touch, winding his arms around Mantis’ waist and burying his face in his neck. Mantis smelled like leather as usual, even if he wasn’t wearing any right now - the scent just imprinted on his skin like that. Being with Mantis like this was comfortable. He was practically purring as Mantis’ hand wandered down his back and cupped his ass.

“Mm… wait,” Liquid said, drawing back a little.

“Boss…”

“Don’t… this is already odd, I don’t want to make this weirder.”

“I am not trying to make it weird,” Mantis sighed, “I just want to make you feel good… then perhaps you’ll be able to relax a little about all this, hm?” He squeezed his hand as if for emphasis.

Liquid shifted against him, indecisive. “At least take off your mask?”

Mantis pushed it up just far enough to give Liquid a quick peck on the lips before putting it firmly back in place. Liquid didn’t know whether he should be grateful or disappointed.

“Maybe you should just go to sleep,” Mantis said, the hand on his back returned to a more respectable position, rubbing soothing circles on his skin. “The sooner this is all over and done with, the better.”

“...yes. You’re right.”

For the first time all week, Liquid felt calm; he suspected Mantis was subtly using his psychic powers on him to induce it, but he didn’t complain. Mantis _was_ right. The sooner he got it over with, the better. If he performed well tomorrow then he’d never have to even think about this again.

“Good night, boss,” Mantis said, adjusting his blanket.

“...mm. Good night, Mantis.”

* * *

Despite the extensive preparation, when the day came and Liquid had to become “Sir James Pemberton”, he still felt like a fish out of water. The lavish penthouse in New York City where the party was being hosted was filled with the kind of Old World opulence that Liquid had never thought really existed in America, let alone personally experienced. The guest list was packed with diplomats and ambassadors, rich lawyers and high-profile judges, CEOs and heads of important government agencies. It was somehow even more suffocating than attending the stupid black-tie shindigs that the Army brass occasionally demanded his precense at - at least with those, it was still ultimately a gathering of soldiers and at the end of the night they could cut loose, get plastered, sing bawdy drinking songs and tell graphic stories of war and loss that civilians could never understand. The people _here_ were exactly the kind of civilians they were thinking about when they said they’d never understand. Liquid got the impression that each one of them sprang into existence fully formed and educated, free of troubles or trauma, sheltered by wealth and privilege, looking down on anyone not in their bubble.

He would have at least expected them to have better food. Liquid loitered nervously by the buffet table, which was a sad excuse for a buffet considering it consisted only of tiny fancy hors d'oeuvres and nothing that could fill even Mantis’ stomach. It was clear that the chefs thought presentation and exoticism was much more important than taste. They did _look_ pretty but were generally either flavorless or a very strange combination of flavors that Liquid didn’t like, such as olives and white chocolate, or oysters and kiwifruit. He was pathologically avoiding anything with caviar in it because the taste reminded him vaguely of semen and he had no idea why the hell it was considered a delicacy.

Where was Gillian Oxley? If she had skipped this party entirely then Liquid would simply have to flip the buffet tables over before he went.

"So, how's it going boss?" Octopus suddenly chimed in over the Codec and Liquid almost dropped the tiny bird-shaped pastry he was holding. Thankfully he could pass off the miniscule earpiece as a hearing aid or something similar, though even with his hair slicked back it was barely visible.

He awkwardly made his way to the entrance where a gracious butler pointed him towards the bathrooms.

"Octopus, I told you not to call me unless I gave you the okay for it!" he snarled quietly and locked the stall door, and sat down on the closed toilet seat.

Usually he avoided public bathrooms but this place was so clean one could've eaten off the floor.

Octopus clicked his tongue." What? I'm trying to be serious about this whole 'mentoring you' thing. Besides, I wanna know how nasty our fine Miss Oxley is behind closed doors."

"I haven't found her yet. I swear to god if she doesn't show up–"

"Ah, I'm sure she will. Maybe she’s doing drugs in the Ladies' bathroom. Trust me, most people at those functions do. "

For a brief second, Liquid tried to imagine a posh and proper woman like her snorting up lines of cocaine from a marble sink.

It didn't really work out.

"I don't know, Octopus..." he sighed and smoothed his pants nervously. "I'd rather not give up on the mission but... maybe it'd be better to just go home and leave it to a professional, eh?"

"You're disappointing me, boss," Octopus scolded sharply and Liquid instinctively ducked down at his tone. "You're usually all too eager to deliver a great performance and now you just give _up_ at the slightest inconvenience? Pathetic."

Jeez, Liquid knew Octopus was right but he didn't have to phrase it like _that_.

"I– I'll go look for her again, okay?" He mumbled sheepishly. "Just, please, don't call me again all of a sudden. It makes me bloody nervous."

He signed out, ignoring Octopus' coughed cheers, and went to wash his hands and fix his tie.

On his way out of the bathroom he awkwardly stared at his shoes and tried to avoid any eye contact with passerbys. God, Octopus was right, he was pathetic, he–

"Ow! Jesus fucking Christ, will you watch it!" he exclaimed and held his nose after having the Ladies' room door slammed into his face as he passed by. "Shit!"

"Oh my god! I am _so_ sorry!" The woman said and immediately got up into his personal space. Liquid stiffened when she touched his jaw. "Are you alright? It's not bleeding, is it?"

Liquid opened his mouth to swear at her but stopped himself just in time to realise he was staring down at the pretty, worried face of Gillian Oxley.

_Oh no._

As good as she had looked in her photograph, she looked even more attractive in real life. She was a good six or so inches shorter than Liquid (while wearing heels!) and, while generally slim, much curvier than the women he was used to. Her dress was high-cut and conservative but so tight it didn’t leave much to the imagination anyway.

He realized he was staring at her, but she didn’t seem to notice because she was a little more preoccupied by the fact that his nose was, in fact, bleeding.

“Goodness, put your head back a little, will you?” she tutted, pulling a handkerchief out of her clutch and dabbing at his face for him.

“I’ve got it, you-- stop,” Liquid mumbled, flustered, taking the handkerchief from her and pinching his nose with it. “It’ll stop in a few seconds. I’m alright.”

"That accent - you’re English?”

“Er, yes. James, um, James Pemberton. _Sir_ James Pemberton.”

“Ah, honorary knighthood?” Gillian said, her face amused. “Did the Queen Mother and her busy flock nominate you personally, or did the government push for it? That kind of thing happens an awful lot nowadays, doesn't it?”

Liquid felt rather self-conscious despite the fact that he’d made the whole knighthood up in the first place. “No, that’s not…”

“My apologies." She chuckled awkwardly and fidgeted around with her clutch." So... why were _you_ hiding in the bathroom?”

Liquid studied her face and briefly wondered if Octopus had been right about the coke thing. 

...no, it couldn't be. 

“I wasn’t hiding, I was- looking for someone.”

“Looking for who?” She blinked. “Oh, I’m sorry, forgot to give you my name--”

“Miss, uh, Oxley? Degree from Oxford, British diplomat? Did I get that right?”

She smiled at him. “You’ve sure done your homework, Sir Pemberton.”

“I thought it would be wise to familiarize myself with the dignitaries who would be coming tonight, though honestly I feel like a fish out of water. I’ve never attended a party like this in New York before, after all.”

“Ahh, so I thought. There are very few here that I haven’t met before, but you’re a new face.” She scrutinized him for a moment. “And not an unpleasant one, either. Why don’t you forget about whoever it is you were looking for? I’m sure he wouldn’t have felt particularly well-met if you’d ambushed him at the urinal. Rule number one of schmoozing.”

“You have a point… have you tried the hors d'oeuvres?”

Liquid felt so vulnerable - she probably didn't pose much of a threat, but he still would've preferred to watch their exchange from some safe corner to later follow her and sneak into her room, rather than being a part of it himself.

"Yes," she made a face and then leaned in to whisper. "They're quite awful, aren't they?"

Liquid relaxed mildly.

"You know, ever since the Baron Digby got married to that daft French cunt the food quality has declined steadily," she told him with a mischievous glint in her eyes. 

"Well, I think at this point we have no other choice but to focus on the alcohol," he joked and wiped his nose one more time. "Ah, I've ruined your handkerchief."

She waved him off. "Oh, that's a shame, but just keep it. I have an idea how you can make it up to me, actually..."

Before Liquid could properly react, Gillian had already hooked arms with him and was dragging him towards the bar.

"What's your preferred choice of drink?" She raised her hand to get the barkeeper's attention before they had even sat down. "A bramble, please. No need to be shy with the gin. And the gentlemen here would like a...?"

Liquid didn’t know much about fancy drinks and wished he could just order a beer or a shot of plain vodka (which was admittedly disgusting but he was strangely fond of anyway). “Piña colada,” he said, thinking of the song.

If the bartender thought that was an odd choice, he didn’t make any indication - merely nodded and went about making their drinks.

Gillian looked at him, amused. “I thought you would order a scotch or something along those lines.”

 _Was_ he being weird? “I prefer something sweeter from time to time,” he said, as smoothly as possible.

“Have you tried the cosmopolitan here?”

“Don’t do it,” Octopus warned in his ear, “remember she needs to think you’re straight.”

Internally bristling at Octopus, Liquid shook his head. “That’s a bit _too_ sweet.”

“I hardly think it’s sweeter than a piña colada,” Gillian said as the bartender placed their drinks in front of him. “Rather, it’s too _pink_ isn’t it? Too pink and girly?”

“I don’t have a problem with pink and girly.”

“Do you now?”

“...well, I don’t have a problem with girls.”

He could hear Octopus groan over the codec. 

She raised an eyebrow at him, then turned back to the bartender. “My companion here would also like to try the cosmopolitan - extra Cointreau, and make it _pink_.”

“Miss Oxley,” Liquid started to protest.

She shushed him. “Please, James, call me Gillian.”

Liquid had no idea why he was getting flustered. Sure, he had come here thinking that Gillian was pretty and seemed like an agreeable enough person according to her biography, but he hadn't expected to feel so caught up in... whatever this was.

Either oblivious to his inner turmoil or politely ignoring it, Gillian chattered away as they sipped on their drinks, not shy to tell a complete stranger details of her life. 

Liquid felt that she was maybe oversharing, but that was probably to be attributed to the fact that most people he knew barely ever talked about their personal business. 

"—and now, ever since my older sister Fiona got married, everytime I see my mother she asks me when I'm going to introduce her to my fiancé," she mumbled petulantly and picked at a blackberry floating in her bramble. 

_I know..._ Liquid thought awkwardly, but chose not to comment. 

"It's not like I don't have more on my mind than just settling down, but apparently she thinks my field of work is just overflowing with handsome, well-off men of marriageable age."

He cocked his head and gestured around them. "It isn't?"

Gillian made a sour face. "What do you know about handsome men?"

"Boss—" Octopus warned.

"Ah, not much I suppose." He busied himself with his stupid pink cosmo. "I just always thought events like these were a convenient place for people to... well—"

"You thought?" She raised an eyebrow and inched closer to fix him with a glare. "Let me guess. You've been living all sheltered and comfortably off daddy's big dime and now that it's time to continue the legacy he sends you off to the States to find a little trophy wife."

Liquid raised his hands placidly. "Woah there, you've got me all wrong. Or well, partially, I suppose."

“Oh? Enlighten me, then.”

He was starting to regret his backstory. “It’s true that my father sent me here, but to expand the family business into America, _not_ to find a wife. I am quite single, thank you. And I know I may fit the polo-playing stereotype but I was actually in the SAS.”

“The SAS, really? What rank were you?”

“I was an air troop,” Liquid said truthfully. It seemed silly to him to include something from his actual biography, but Octopus had said that the best lies were 99% truth, so a fictional backstory was most believable when it drew inspiration from lived experiences. “But I can’t tell you much more than that. Standard procedure in special forces is to not share details, you know.”

“Hmm. Past tense? You’re retired now?”

"I had to help my father with his business. One doesn’t stay in the SAS for life anyhow.”

“If you don’t mind my asking, was it hard to return to civilian life?”

“Well, I retired several years ago, so I haven’t had any trouble with it all lately,” Liquid said, taking a dignified sip of his cosmo. He would have preferred to not talk about this particular bit of his life. “The only thing I have difficulty with is getting closer to people...”

“Really! You seem fine talking to me,” Gillian said, watching him from under her eyelashes.

“Smacking me in the face with the bathroom door was a good icebreaker. I’m normally quite reserved - but I feel I can be comfortable with you.”

She looked at him for a half a moment longer. Liquid felt the exact opposite of comfortable right now, but he was hedging his bets on Gillian being the type of woman who was charmed by a sensitive man whom other women didn’t already have their claws in.

It seemed to work. “You aren’t so bad yourself, James. As posh as they are, I find most men in this segment of society to be pretty... boorish. You’re different, though. You seem quite sweet.”

“W-Well, thank you,” Liquid said, genuinely embarrassed.

"You definitely need to tell me more about your polo accomplishments later, though." She emptied the rest of her drink. "I _love_ horses."

Liquid smiled awkwardly and nodded. He knew she did, the entire reason they had come up with the polo thing was that Gillian Oxley was bloody obsessed with horses.

Gillian stretched and let out a satisfied sigh. Liquid tried not to stare at her chest as she raised her arms above her head. 

"I think by now we're drunk enough to dance, don't you agree?"

"Huh? Oh, yes. Of course," he mumbled sheepishly and offered her his arm. The dance floor was sparsely populated and he honestly preferred it that way. Most of the couples dancing seemed to be married and already past their prime, which made him feel less pressured about being judged. 

Thankfully Octopus’ training had paid off - Gillian seemed to be thrilled with him leading her over the parquet. And he was glad she was so much smaller than him, because it gave him a good excuse to avoid eye contact. When their waltz ended and the band started with a slow and sensual melody she was almost hanging off his neck and Liquid felt creepy for picking up on the smell of her perfume, hair, whatever– and _liking_ it. On top of that the soft swell of her breasts brushed up against Liquid's own chest from time to time and he was grateful that Octopus could only hear and not _see_ him, because his stupid face was burning red hot.

Internally he scolded himself for getting so distracted, he was a professional and not a horny school boy, damnit. It was time he started focusing on the mission's actual goal and stopped making a fool out of himself by–

"Are you alright?" Gillian whispered against his shoulder. "You seem... preoccupied."

“Oh,” Liquid said, hating how stupidly surprised he sounded. “Yes, of course I’m alright. I just don’t dance much, I suppose.”

“I never would have guessed.”

“You’re pretty good yourself,” he said awkwardly. “But what I think I’d like to do is go back to the bar and have a few more drinks. No-- not the bar, I mean. A more private table… what do you think?”

“I do like the sound of a more private table,” Gillian mused. She didn’t let him go until the next song ended, though. Liquid excused himself to get drinks, and picked out a bottle of wine with the deepest, darkest red color without looking at any other qualities.

“A good choice,” Gillian said nonetheless when Liquid joined her at the table she picked out. It was by a window and had an astounding view of the nighttime New York skyline. While there were other tables nearby, none of them were occupied; very few people at the party were actually sitting down, instead standing in small clusters doing their best to impress one another.

“I thought you might like it,” Liquid said, trying hard to give the air of a man who knew why the vintage and orchard actually mattered. “Here - let me pour.” He took her glass.

Gillian had moved very close, her knees bumping against his and Liquid tried to give her a gracious smile as he poured the wine carefully. 

"Boss, make sure you don't get too drunk," Octopus warned in his ear but Liquid ignored him and poured some for himself as well.

It took all of his self control not to grimace in disgust - the wine was so dry he felt his tongue was going to shrivel up and fall out of his mouth. 

"Mhm." Gillian mused as she swirled her glass, smelled it and took a sip. "So, James, I want to learn more about you."

"Um—"

"Here I've been talking your ear off the entire night, going on and on about myself. You've made me so curious - I didn't think you would turn out to be the mysterious type." There was a glint in her eyes that Liquid couldn't quite interpret.

"Well, I already told you about my father and my time at the military..." he mumbled uncomfortably and forced himself to empty his glass, quickly pouring another one. "I assure you, I am not as interesting as you think."

"Nonsense." She smiled, and placed a hand on his thigh. "You promised to tell me about your polo, didn't you?"

 _No, I didn't_ , Liquid thought but figured it was better not to push his luck. "Ah well, I've always loved horses - I pretty much grew up in the family stable, always sneaking away so I could help out with the animals. My father got quite frustrated with me until a friend of his advised to have me take riding lessons. I suppose for him polo was just the next logical step to make up for my disobedience, but I didn't care. I became quite fond of it."

"That sounds wonderful..." Gillian sighed. "I've always wanted to have my own stable when I was a child. Maybe I should come visit your family's sometime so the two of us can go out for a little ride together?"

 _Oh boy._ She smirked at him before finishing her glass as well.

"Let me—" he mumbled and made a show of being flustered by her fingers stroking the fabric of his pants, clumsily pouring her more wine.

It went cascading down the side of the glass and directly into Gillian’s lap. She almost dropped her glass in shock. “ _James!_ ”

“I’m sorry!” Liquid said, quickly pulling the bottle upright. “You- you made me nervous!”

“This is a Dior dress!”

“ _Boss_!” Octopus said scandalized in his ear, like he actually thought Liquid had done it out of sheer paw-handedness. Liquid shook his head.

“Will your cleaner be able to get the stain out?”

“I doubt it! I can’t believe you’ve done this.”

“I’m really sorry, Gillian,” Liquid said, standing up, “I’ll pay for the cleaner or a new dress, I- you probably can’t go around wearing that the rest of the evening. How did you get here?”

“I, I was driven…”

“I brought my own car. I’ll take you back to your place, you can change and see if you can rinse it off in the sink or something before the stain sets.”

She gave him a goggle-eyed look. “You can’t rinse a Dior dress off in the sink.”

“You should at least get yourself cleaned up before anyone sees you,” he said, shrugging out of his coat and wrapping it around her waist to hide the stain. “Here, we can head out the side door.”

Gillian walked with him, her eyes screaming bloody murder but the rest of her body language calm and composed. Liquid supposed he should feel bad about the dress, it was rather nice - attractively cut and covered in detailed embroidery. It was dark green, which in his opinion made the wine stain barely noticeable but he knew posh people were anal-retentive about these kinds of things.

"I see. Smart move, boss," Octopus whistled. "Still, shame about the dress. You should've poured it on yourself, I'm sure Miss Oxley would have appreciated seeing you shirtless."

Liquid agreed silently and grit his teeth, the collar of his dress shirt was scratching against his neck and he really would have preferred to get that thing off. Still, he figured that this was his best chance to get closer to Gillian.

It was dark and pretty cold when they stepped outside, he automatically wrapped his arm around her shoulder as they walked. She hadn't voiced being bothered by the cold, but she didn't complain about the contact either. 

"Oh," She said as they stopped in front of his rented Honda. "I expected something more... er, sophisticated."

Liquid just shrugged, not even bothering with an excuse and opened the door for her before getting into the driver's seat.

After Gillian had given him the address of their hotel both of them went quiet and Liquid turned up the radio to drown out the silence. Had he miscalculated? Obviously he needed a way to get into her room, in case she was hiding anything important among her belongings, but he did feel like he might have pushed his luck too far.

His eyes flicked to the rearview mirror nervously, meeting her stern gaze. He wasn't sure if the way she was glaring at him meant that she wanted to jump his bones or rather would have liked to have him skinned alive.

He swallowed and returned his focus to the busy traffic.

Octopus was right - women _were_ terrifying.

When they finally arrived at Gillian's hotel it had started to rain, Liquid quickly walked her to the entrance and stood under the canopy, fussing with his hair to save it from getting ruined by the moisture.

"Thank you, James." Gillian said, looking quite solemn with her mascara smeared by the droplets of water catching in her lashes. She tugged at his sleeve gently. "I suppose you will be leaving now...?"

 _Fuck_. He couldn’t think of a way to salvage this. “Can I at least have my jacket back?” he said, dropping all pretense of not looking totally pathetic here.

She stuck out her lower lip slightly, gazing at him in thought for a long moment, then unwrapped the jacket from her waist and handed it to him.

Liquid turned and made to go back to his car. He didn’t see a point in saying good night or anything.

“You know, James,” she interrupted, “it _is_ quite hard to get out of backzipper dresses by one’s self. I _could_ use some help with that.”

Liquid actually stood still in the pouring rain for a half moment, processing that, then turned around, his face hot. “You’re inviting me to your room?” he said out loud.

“No, I’ll have you undress me in the hallway." Gillian said mockingly. " _Yes_ , of course I’m inviting you to my room, now come on before you get any more soaked!”

Liquid almost sprinted into the hotel after her. He had genuinely thought for a minute there that he’d failed and wasted all this time. And drinks. He couldn’t believe she actually liked him enough to invite him into her hotel room and undress her, and, none-too-subtly, wanted him to do more too.

“...I can’t believe that worked,” Octopus said as they walked through the halls towards her suite. “I guess they were right about you being her type. La virgencita, lend me patience...”


	2. Chapter 2

Liquid tried to keep a neutral expression but failed miserably, a giddy smile playing around his lips.  
  
Gillian's suite was spacious and very, _very_ fancy. Liquid felt almost more out of place than he had at the party. He slipped off his shoes and placed them neatly next to the door, before stepping onto the soft carpet flooring.

Gillian kicked off her heels carelessly instead, threw her clutch on the bed and turned on the bedside lamp. Despite her runny makeup she looked very pretty in the dim light as she approached him.

"Well?" she asked, craning her neck to look up at him. "I'm not letting you off the hook for ruining my dress just yet."

Then she turned around and pointed to the back of her slender neck. "The zippers hidden, you might have to dig around a little..."

Liquid was painfully aware of every little movement, every breath he shakingly exhaled as he steadied his hand on her waist and used the other to search for the zipper. When he finally found it, he briefly debated closing his eyes, feeling awfully timid and inadequate for staring at Gillian so tactlessly before.

Still, he couldn't help but watch as he opened her dress slowly, taking in the revealed expanse of skin with heated cheeks. Somehow it just kept going and he had to hold back a sigh of relief when it stopped just above her tailbone.

Before he could properly process the little bit of lace peeking out from underneath she turned quickly, clutching her dress to her chest, as if it were to drop without her support.

"You're a real gentleman, James," she hummed and touched her hand to his biceps, feeling for the muscle underneath his shirt. "Any other man would've taken advantage of the situation and turned it into a tasteless flirtation..."

"God damnit, boss!" Octopus exclaimed, followed by what sounded like paper being ripped up in frustration. "She thinks you're fucking  _ gay! _ "

Liquid was too caught up in the way Gillian was looking at him to acknowledge the complaints. 

"I– well. I don't... usually do this kind of... thing."

"What? You don't always follow women you've just met up into their rooms and start undressing them?" she asked teasingly. 

"No, I mean– yes. I haven't been close with a woman for... a long time. So I–" 

He made a small, surprised sound as she stood on her toes to kiss him softly. Liquid immediately was overwhelmed by the feeling, almost pulling back but catching himself. 

God, it felt  _ so _ chaste and he really wasn't sure if that... satisfied him.

Gillian broke the kiss after a few seconds and leaned back slightly to study his face. 

"Good?" she whispered and he nodded, feeling dazed.

She trailed her mouth down his cheek and jaw, seemingly reluctant to let go. 

"I'll let you decide if you want to stay the night, but I have to be honest - I think I would...  _ enjoy _ your company very much." Gillian patted his cheek almost condescendingly, then let go of him. "Feel free to get comfortable while I freshen up a little."

With that she disappeared into what Liquid presumed to be the adjacent bathroom. 

"'Fucking gay' my ass..." he mumbled under his breath as Octopus let out a theatrical sigh.

He shook himself. He didn’t know how long it would take Gillian to come back from the bathroom and he had to search as much of her hotel room as possible before she did, all while being absolutely silent and leaving nothing out of place. The first spot he looked was the hotel safe. He’d always found those things easy to crack but Gillian hadn’t placed anything in it.  _ Of course _ , he thought,  _ that’d be too obvious _ . He checked her purse but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, at least as far as his understanding of purses went. He searched the desk and found some documents, but they seemed to be about some non-profit organization that rehabilitated rescued farm animals or something. Nothing incriminating.

“Could be encrypted,” Octopus said, “better take pictures just to be sure.”

“That’s what I was thinking,” Liquid said quietly, pulling out the tiny pen camera that he normally never had to bring along on missions.

It was somehow both frustrating and relieving that he wasn’t able to find anything obvious in his search. If catching her had been a matter of searching her room, why the hell hadn’t he been allowed to just break into the hotel room while she was at the party? They knew she would be gone. Sure, the hotel security seemed tight, but who did they think he was?!

“I’m really going to have to fuck her, aren’t I?” he said in despair.

“What’s the matter with that?” Octopus said. “You clearly like her.”

“We’ve been over this! I wanted to avoid it if I could…”

“It’ll be fine, boss. I’m sure she’ll say something. Most people let their guard down after they’ve had a good orgasm -- so you better do a good job.”

“My ability to ‘perform’ is not what I’m worried about,” Liquid said stiffly. “I just- I feel terrible about this.”

“Aw, you’re just drunk.”

“I’m not! Not that drunk, anyway.” He sighed. “I just don’t feel comfortable doing this. I feel bad about Mantis, he doesn’t deserve this.”

“Uh,” Octopus said.

Mantis’ voice broke in over the Codec. “...hi, boss.”

"Mantis!?" Liquid shrieked and immediately clasped his hands over his mouth, silently praying that Gillian hadn't heard him over the sound of running water.

"Calm down, boss."

"How long have you been listening in???" he hissed.

"Um, since the beginning."

Liquid gaped. "And nobody bothered telling me? Jesus Christ, I feel like such a–"

Mantis interrupted him awkwardly. "It's alright, boss. I knew what I was getting myself into. You've been doing... very well."

Feeling betrayed, Liquid shook his head and rubbed his temples. Didn't he have a reason to be upset over the fact that Mantis seemed completely unbothered by everything that had happened? Sure, he was too far away to pick up on Liquid's feelings but... he felt a pang of guilt in his chest when he realised Mantis probably had no clue that he  _ genuinely  _ felt attracted to Gillian.

"I'm sorry, Mantis..." he heard himself mumble. "This was an awful idea. I wanna go home."

"Stop being childish, Eli." Mantis chastised him and he almost flinched at being called...  _ that _ . "Make sure you... use any means necessary to get the needed information out of the target."

"...are you sure?" 

For a long moment Liquid was met with silence, then Mantis finally spoke. "Eli, I–"

Suddenly Liquid heard the bathroom doorknob turning and threw himself on the bed as though he’d been lounging on it while waiting for her to come back. Gillian's hair was down now, her makeup was gone, and she was wearing a bathrobe and glasses. Liquid was so caught up in staring at her that he didn’t pay attention to what she said.

“Huh?” he said, suddenly afraid he’d been caught.

“I asked you if you were comfortable, James?”

“Oh. Yes. Quite.”

“You look it,” she said with a little chuckle. “You could have at least taken your clothes off, I feel rather underdressed now. Or did you want me to do it for you?”

“Ah-- you don’t have to do anything for me, Gillian,” Liquid said, tongue-tied. Her bathrobe was open enough that he could see almost her entire breast and try as he might he could not stop staring. What had possessed him? He never got this distracted by Wolf whenever she had her tits on display (which was always). A pretty, little silver necklace dangled down from her neck, its pendant disappearing in her cleavage. She had presumably been wearing it this whole time, but he hadn’t noticed.

"I didn't know you wore glasses..." he mumbled instead, his mouth dry. 

"I usually go for contacts, but right now I want to be able to see what I'm doing to you."

Liquid swallowed as Gillian sat on the bed next to him and began to undo his tie, her touch light. “You know, I think it’s cute when men are shy.”

“I’m not shy,” Liquid said petulantly.

“Simply inexperienced, then?”

“I told you, I haven’t been this close with a woman in a long time, what- what else did you think I meant?”

She didn’t answer, just gave him an amused look. Liquid felt really self-conscious. He wasn’t here for her amusement.

But he couldn’t figure out what else to do with himself as she unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it back on his shoulders. She raised an eyebrow. “I wasn’t expecting to find such a…  _ beefcake _ under that fancy suit, James.”

“Erm- well, I  _ do _ play polo.”

“You expect me to believe you got this buff from _ playing polo _ ?”

“I… I also work out on the side…?”

Gillian looked up at his face, then back to his chest. She gently touched one of the scars there. “So did you get this on the polo field or in the gym, then?”

"Uh. The SAS..." he said curtly and turned his head away, avoiding her eyes.

Gillian didn't reply but simply grabbed his jaw and pulled him in for another kiss, her other hand trailing down his chest and coming to rest on his lower stomach where a line of little golden hairs raked their way up to his navel. 

This time it was less chaste and Liquid - unsure if he was driven by the alcohol in his system or the intoxicating scent of her perfume - eagerly returned it, opening his mouth for Gillian almost submissively. 

That awful wine tasted much better on her lips. 

"...well?" she spoke against him. 

"Ah–" he gasped when she bit his mouth playfully. "I'm sorry. I don't really... like talking about it."

She hummed in sympathetic acknowledgement and promptly straddled his lap, her body not too heavy but more of a soft, tender press against his own. 

Then her hands found their way into his hair as she kissed him again, Liquid closed his eyes and leaned into her touch. God, he felt like a  _ dog _ \- both humiliated and at the same time exited over the lavish attention. 

"Er, boss–" Octopus started in his ear and Liquid felt himself snap back to reality, becoming increasingly and uncomfortably aware of the heat pooling in his abdomen.

“Mm.” Liquid tried to make his noise of acknowledgement sound like Gillian had elicited it.

“We’re gonna go. The recording will still be going in case she says something but no way are we... partaking in  _ this _ . You’re on your own. What? No, Mantis! Shut up, you don't want to listen to him–” Octopus was cut off. 

“Mmmn.”

Gillian broke the kiss. “You’re getting excited,” she said, matter-of-factly.

“Can you blame me?” Liquid replied, flustered.

She shed her bathrobe. She wasn’t naked underneath but instead wearing lacy peach-colored lingerie. Liquid had to check himself to make sure his jaw hadn’t dropped.

“Do you want to touch me?” Gillian said, batting her eyes at him playfully.

“God,  _ yes _ .” Liquid breathed. He reached out to grab two handfuls of tits, but Gillian leaned back a little.

“Can you get my bra off?”

“You can’t do it yourself?” Liquid said just before he brain caught up with his mouth and he realized what she meant. He slapped a hand to his face while she laughed at him. Somehow it didn’t come across as mean.

“Go on, James,” she purred, resting her arms on Liquid’s shoulders.

To be honest, he  _ really _ had a thing for lingerie and if he had his way she wouldn’t take anything off from here out on. But that seemed like a weird thing to spring on someone he just met. He wrapped his arms around her and groped around for the clasps of her bra.  _ Fuck _ . He was not good at these things.

“What are you doing? You're tickling me!” She giggled against his neck. 

“Ah– don't worry, I’ve got it,” Liquid said shortly. He did not. This was embarrassing.

Taking pity on him, Gillian reached back and finally her bra came off. Liquid - who wanted to avoid more awkward staring - immediately pulled her against him, licking into her mouth while gently groping her chest.

Gillian helped him slip out of his shirt fully and he couldn't help but gasp when he felt her bare skin against his, his mind clouded with how perfectly every soft little curve on her body fit against him.

To be truthful, Liquid wouldn't have objected to just continuing with making out like this forever (or at least a few more minutes...) but Gillian didn't give him much of a choice when she crawled off of him to shrug off the bathrobe and unceremoniously unbutton his pants, pulling them down his thighs, underwear and all.

He didn't have the time nor mind to bother with feeling shy about his body, simply kicking his pants off to watch them drop to the accumulated pile of expensive fashion on the floor.

Gillian was back on top of him in no time. "My  _ god _ , you are  _ so _ handsome," she mumbled and raked her hands down his sides.

"I know." He grinned at her only to get pinched for his vanity.

With nothing between them but her thin lace panties Liquid felt his dick getting increasingly interested in the proceedings. Still, so far Gillian was busying herself with touching him everywhere  _ but _ between his legs, probably savouring their frisky foreplay as she kissed down his neck and nipped at his shoulder.

"I want to make you feel good..." he breathed and it wasn't a lie, his hands tracing the lace pattern to cup her ass. She was wet against his thigh, her underwear not doing much to hide her arousal. Liquid was stunned. 

"Do you?" she asked, and it sounded like she was daring him to take control.

Unsurprisingly, Liquid took her up on it, never having been one to turn a challenge. He was mostly going on autopilot by now, anyway.

Gillian let out a small "oof" when her head hit the pillow after he flipped them over, then adjusted her glasses and watched him expectantly as he kissed his way down her torso.

"Look at me," she demanded when he reached the hem of her panties. Liquid did, cheeks flushed, nervous inexperience catching up with him.

He wanted to be cool and suave and dominant so, so badly, but he had half a clue at best of what he was doing right now. He also didn’t think he knew literally any women who liked having the man in charge. But he wanted to impress Gillian. Quashing his anxiety, maintaining eye contact and hiding how he was shaking, he lowered his mouth and began to mouth at her through her panties. 

Gillian was  _ hot _ against his face and smelled  _ good _ and through the hint of fabric softener on his tongue he was able to taste  _ her _ .

"What, you're going to ruin my underwear as well?" she said breathlessly and looked at him with half-lidded eyes. 

"It seems to me you've already managed to do that by yourself," Liquid retorted, his voice vibrating against her. 

Gillian scoffed and kicked him lightly. "If you don't behave I'll have you escorted back out into the rain. And this time you won't get your coat back–" 

He carefully stripped off her panties (they did look expensive) and held onto her leg, kissing her inner thighs and dragging his teeth over her soft, lightly freckled skin. 

Gillian gave up on her complaints and threw her head back, a satisfied smile dancing around her lips. 

Alright, he swallowed anxiously, there was no backing off now.

He found her pubic hair to be as neatly groomed as the rest of her, auburn curls trimmed prettily to frame her...  _ well _ \- somehow Liquid felt way more reluctant to name what he was seeing than when he was faced with a penis. Dick, cock, whatever- seemed like so much more simple, if not juvenile terms for genitalia.

God, why was he blushing over this? 

Experimentally, he ran his fingers over her labia, spreading her open, and sucked, kissed at her messily. 

Gillian squirmed and made an appreciative sound, winding her fingers into his hair, pulling him closer against her. "Come on, you tease..." she whined. 

Liquid felt embarrassed but continued nonetheless - the teasing had been very much unintentional, his inexperience probably driving her up the walls as she raised her hips to meet his touch. 

"Mm." 

Personally, Liquid found this much more enjoyable than putting a dick in his mouth. It didn't just taste better, but it was also less... reminiscent of uncomfortable past experiences. He quickly figured out a rhythm between using his fingers and mouth - sometimes both at once - and Gillian apparently seemed to enjoy it, judging by the way her thighs clamped around his head. 

"Oh, fuck–" she gasped and pulled so hard on his hair that Liquid groaned against her clitoris in pain. "That's  _ good _ ."

He would have gloated over the praise, if his face wasn't currently stuck between her legs.

“Holy  _ shit _ , fuck!  _ Fuck! _ " She ground down hard against his jaw, cursing at him between laboured breaths. 

Then, finally, she came messily all over his face and allowed him to raise his head. Liquid licked his lips self-consciously. She tasted good. “I wasn’t expecting you to have such a potty-mouth, Gillian,” he huffed, voice hoarse. 

“Oh, shut up. Come here.” Liquid sat up obediently, scooting closer to her. She grabbed at his dick and he had to physically stop himself from squirming. “I want you. Inside me.”

He could almost hear the last bit of his self-control fraying.  _ The mission _ , he told himself, _ focus on the mission, try to get her to talk _ . His eyes were glued to her fingers on his dick, her hand was so much smaller and more delicate than–

“There are condoms in the bedside table drawer,” Gillian whispered against his mouth.

“But I’m sterile,” Liquid said without thinking.

Gillian let out a single loud bray of laughter. “And you expect me to believe that? You think I trust you that much!”

“What- why would you sleep with someone you don’t trust?”

“If I could only sleep with people I trusted then I’d be celibate for life.”

Liquid paused briefly. “You... can’t trust anyone?”

“Put on the condom, James. I don’t know where you’ve been.”

Liquid’s better judgement said to press the issue and find out what Gillian was being all mysterious about. Liquid did not listen to his better judgement.

She handed him her glasses and he leaned over her to place them next to the fancy lamp, clumsily grabbing a condom from the nightstand. He struggled to rip open the wrapper for a second and then finally rolled it over his aching cock.

It felt weird and Liquid wasn't sure if he liked the rubbery latex on his skin, he had never used condoms with Mantis...

Gillian seemed to notice his fretting and pulled him closer again, running her hands through his hair and down his neck and back until they came to a rest against his ass.

"Go on," she cooed against the shell of his ear. "Nothing to be shy about."

"Uh... just like that?" 

Gillian laughed, but he could tell she was getting impatient. "Yes, you oaf. Do you require a written invitation?" 

Liquid cringed at his own awkwardness and scolded himself internally for being so hesitant. Graciously though, Gillain pulled him even closer and gripped the base of his dick to rub it a little on herself, over that wet heat - Liquid couldn't help but moan against her cheek - and then finally guided him inside her.

"Wow–" Liquid said dumbly, his skin on fire and Gillian playfully smacked him, telling him to shut the hell up before licking back into his mouth, her kisses more hungry this time.

Honestly, from there on he just acted on instinct, despite his inhibitions there really was no great secret to what they were doing and focusing on that helped Liquid calm down a little.

The fact that it felt really,  _ really _ good was nothing to sneeze at either.

But for some reason his brain kept returning to sex with men ̶M̶a̶n̶t̶i̶s̶  
as the "default state", which he figured was to be expected considering he never really had had sex with a woman before. And while the comparison of the general act made sense to him, this was still so different to anything he had experienced.

Gillian was all softness and curves, light and sweet. There was no edge of panic, no feral lust, no desperation, no danger - only gentle, careful lovemaking.

Though, he supposed it couldn't be really called that - after all they were strangers, they were only sleeping together.

̶H̶e̶ ̶c̶o̶u̶l̶d̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶h̶e̶l̶p̶ ̶b̶u̶t̶ ̶t̶h̶i̶n̶k̶ ̶o̶f̶ ̶M̶a̶n̶t̶i̶s̶.̶

Liquid broke the kiss because his little gasps had become so disruptive he was barely able to breathe, instead he hid his face against Gillian's neck - leaning on one arm and caressing her chest with his free hand, probably grabbing at her a little too roughly.

"Ah–" he whined when she craned her hips up to meet him so he reached a fraction of an inch deeper as she clenched around him.

"Touch me–" she mumbled heatedly and pulled his hand from her breast to her crotch, Liquid leaned back and tried to rub at her clit in time with his shakey thrusts.

Attempting to speak, to tell her how good she felt, but only managing to wring out a few pathetic groans and guttural sounds, he was feverish and ecstatic at once.

Gillian called "his" name when she orgasmed again and Liquid felt very, very much out of it.

_ Mantis _ , he mouthed, barely aware of the tears spilling from his eyes when he came as well, clinging to Gillian for dear life until his hips finally stuttered to a halt.

"Fuck," she said again after catching her breath. "You really are– oh..."

Liquid sniffled as he pulled out and carelessly threw the condom at the nightstand, before collapsing on top of Gillain and burying his face against her collar bone.

"...are you alright?" she asked him cautiously, petting his hair.  
  
“I’m just overwhelmed,” Liquid said, somehow managing to bite his tongue as he spoke. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Are you sure?”

Liquid wished he could coil up in on himself into a tight, safe little knot like his namesake. Gillian doting on him now really  _ was _ overwhelming. She sighed and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, letting him hide his face in her cleavage.

“I know there’s a dearth of… sensitive men in our social class, but I won’t judge you, James. I do like a man who’s in touch with his emotions.”

“I’m alright,” Liquid insisted, pressing his face harder against her. The pendant of her necklace was poking his cheek, and he grunted in annoyance, nerves already frayed. “Can’t you take this necklace off? It’s not comfortable.”

“No, James. Leave it alone.”

“What’s the matter?” Liquid said, finally pulling his head up.

“I never take it off - it’s important to me, that’s all,” Gillian said, wiping his cheeks with her thumbs. “You wouldn’t like it if I asked you to get rid of that silly tattoo of yours, would you?”

Liquid was slightly stung. He was proud of his tattoo; he’d come up with the design idea himself. “There is a big difference between having laser surgery to remove a tattoo and simply removing a necklace.”

“The sentiment is the same, isn’t it? Perhaps I should have compared it to a wedding ring, but we’re both quite single.”

“...indeed.”

She patted his cheek. “Though I wouldn’t mind seeing you again. In fact - why don’t you stick around? I will be in New York all weekend.”

“Ahh-- my flight back to London is tomorrow,” Liquid said awkwardly.

“But surely you’ll be back to the States on daddy’s business again soon? We could meet up then.”

“I would love that,” Liquid said, genuinely feeling bad about the fact that he wasn’t lying right now. He  _ would _ love that; he would just never see her again after this. Really, it was better that way. But… he  _ liked _ her.

The guilt of that made him want to cry again and he ducked his head away in embarrassment.

“You’re sweet, James,” Gillian said, rubbing his back.

“Sorry… I’ve got to go to the bathroom for a moment and clean up…”

“Of course. I believe the hotel has provided some spare toothbrushes in the drawer by the sink.”

“Mm. Thanks.”

He quickly fled, locked the door behind him, and stared at the mirror in a panic. He had lipstick stains all over the lower half of his face and jaw, and his hair was all messed up even though he had spent so long carefully styling it. His eyes were puffy and red and watery and if this hadn’t been a fancy hotel with Miss Gillian Amelia Oxley in the other room he probably would have smashed the mirror. 

Liquid felt pathetic.

_ His _ job had been to seduce  _ her _ but now  _ he  _ felt like the one who’d been quite seduced. Over the course of a couple hours he’d managed to develop a  _ crush _ , like a schoolboy, not like the accomplished soldier of almost  _ thirty _ he actually was. What about the mission?! He was supposed to find evidence of her being a spy, and he still didn’t have half a clue what that was even about! The only thing that even pointed to it was that she had said she couldn’t trust anyone - but as an attractive woman in what was still very much an old boy’s club, he couldn’t even blame her for that.

He finally managed to hail Octopus on Codec. “...how much did you hear?” he asked, dreading the answer.

Thankfully, Octopus said, “I only came back in here when I heard you trying to call. I assume you’re done?”

“Yes, and I’m empty-handed. She didn’t say anything incriminating. Hasn’t so much as mentioned a foreign country all night. She’ll probably be asleep by the time I get back out there, too.”

“Then search her room again,” Octopus suggested.

“There’d be no point! If she had something we could use against her then she wouldn’t just leave it in her hotel room. I know she’s not stupid. She’d keep it on her… person…”

“Uh, boss, you okay? Focus.”

“Her necklace,” Liquid said, blinking at himself. “I’ve got to get her necklace.”

“Do you usually steal jewelry from people you sleep with?”

“No, you twit! It’s got to be some kind of key or data-storage device or something. Why else would she insist on keeping it on even during sex? If she were such a sentimental romantic then she wouldn’t fuck me on the first night we met.”

“Honestly, sounds plausible, boss,” Octopus said, “good job. And if she’s asleep, just take it and go. If it ends up being nothing we can just mail it back to her.”

“Right. I’ll call you back.” Liquid signed off. He wasn’t sure if he wanted it to be nothing after all or not. In the back of his mind he was quietly hoping that if it did turn out to be a USB or something similar, it would only hold pictures of a nostalgic vacation or her favourite childhood horse. 

He did hate the idea of failing his assignment - but he hated the idea of Gillian being sent to Guantanamo Bay or something even more. Spy or not, she… was nice to him. And she was pretty, and smelled good. That was really all it took to win Liquid’s heart.

He washed up quickly, then crept back out of the bathroom. Gillian was stretched out on the bed, the shadow of a satisfied smile on her face. She half opened her eyes as he approached.

“I was worried you’d decided to run off,” she murmured.

“My flight isn’t that early,” Liquid said, slipping under the covers and wrapped his arms around her. She was so warm. “I can stay the night.”

“Good. Perhaps we can have some more fun in the morning before breakfast.” She kissed him.

“I hope so,” he said hollowly, and turned off the lamp.

For a while he laid regretfully in the dark next to Gillian, face buried in her velvety hair, waiting for her to fall asleep. 

When her breathing finally slowed, he awkwardly reached around her to open her necklace, slipped out of bed to put on his suit and shoes, and - after a moment of regretful hesitation - silently left.

* * *

It was late in the evening the next day by the time Liquid came skulking back to FOXHOUND headquarters. He knew from the rear-view mirror of the car that he still looked like hell. He hadn’t gotten the chance to clean up at all since he washed his face in Gillian’s hotel bathroom; even then, there were still traces of makeup around his jawline and his hair was still uncombed. All he wanted to do right now was make it to the showers without looking anyone in the eye. Unfortunately, Raven stood between him and the entrance to the building.

“Boss,” Raven said, stopping him, “you look rough.”

"What are you doing out here? It's late..." Liquid mumbled and shouldered his bag as he walked towards the building.

"I was feeding the birds. The winter has been rough on them," Raven replied and followed him. "...though right now I am more concerned about you, boss."

"I'm fine."

"You don't look fine. I heard the mission was a success though?"

Liquid shrugged. "I suppose it was. The food was awful though and I–"

Raven almost bumped into him when he abruptly stopped in the hallway, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"...boss?"

"I-I said I'm fine..." Liquid said, voice shaking and hoarse.

For a moment neither of them said a word, then Raven rubbed his huge hand over his back. Liquid froze.

"I told them this wasn't a good idea–" he growled, sounding angry and Liquid felt more threatened than comforted at that. "I told Ocelot that you can't handle a mission like that, but of course the old bastard wouldn't listen to me!" 

Liquid stepped away from him. "I handled it just  _ fine! _ " 

Sighing, Raven crossed his arms. "I know, I know. You did well, boss - I just don't think I personally could've slept with a complete stranger because my superiors told me so. Guess I'm a wimp, huh?" He tried to crack a smile. 

Liquid stared at him and then down at his feet. He started sniffling. "No, you're not," he cried. " _ I'm _ the wimp here!!!" 

"Jeez, boss. Do you want me to get Mantis?" 

Liquid dropped his bag and buried his face in his hands. He was so,  _ so _ tired.

“No,” he groaned, “don’t get Mantis. I don’t want to see Mantis. I want to shower and go to bed! And I want someone else to do my paperwork!”

Raven gave him a rather alarmed look. “You’re the boss, boss. No one can force you to go to debriefing. I can talk to Octopus for you.”

“...thank you, Raven,” Liquid said at length, forcing himself to calm down. He recomposed himself, shoved the pen camera and Gillian’s necklace into Raven’s hand, and ducked away from his arm. He really hated himself for throwing a tantrum like an overtired, petulant little child but he really was at his limit. He didn’t just want to go to bed, he wanted to hibernate until he forgot about Gillian entirely.

He did feel a bit better as he showered, though. He imagined Gillian’s handprints on him washing away, down the drain. It was sad and cathartic. He felt like a prostitute. He just got paid to sleep with someone, he  _ was _ a prostitute, even if the ‘objective’ had ended up being stealing something off of her -- so he wasn’t just  _ a prostitute _ , but one of those low-class ones who pickpocketed their clients. And she’d been  _ nice _ to him.

Liquid was so wound up about it all that when a bit of shampoo dripped into his eyes, the tears that naturally welled up ended up becoming a crying session that lasted maybe fifteen minutes. Afterwards he turned down the water temperature and let the cold shower focus him and tone down the redness and puffiness around his eyes. His whole body felt lighter now. He was sure at this point that he’d be fine by tomorrow morning.

He didn’t bother getting dressed again to return to his 

quarters, instead walking through the hallways with a towel wrapped around himself. He’d just sleep naked. He didn’t meet anyone on his way back.

He did meet someone in his quarters.  _ Mantis _ .

“What are you doing here?” Liquid said before he could stop himself, still standing in the doorway.

"Boss," Mantis started and Liquid stared at him blankly.

"You know I just came back, why couldn't you give me some space...?" Liquid asked, defeated.

"I thought it might be good to talk about what happened..."

" _ Now? _ " Liquid shrieked and clutched his towel to himself, feeling Mantis tentatively reach into his mind. "No! No– Get out of my head!"

Mantis let go, clearly feeling guilty for the intrusion, but then appeared by his side, closed the door gently and put his hand on Liquid's shaking arm. "You're right. You should rest, boss."

Liquid didn't know if he wanted to cling to Mantis or throw him out of his quarters.

"You did a good job on the mission..." Mantis mumbled tentatively and Liquid had known him well and long enough to know how utterly insincere he was being right now.

"I already feel like bloody garbage, Mantis!" he growled. "I don't need your or Raven's or anyone's pity right now!"

"Fine!" Mantis spat back, letting go of him. "I was just trying to comfort you!"

" _ I don't want to be comforted! _ I know what you're thinking! Why can't you just be honest and tell me that you're disappointed with me to my face, you fucking coward!"

Mantis anger faltered. "Eli–"

"Just say it out loud for everyone to hear! Call me a whore and tell me how filthy you think I am so we can be done with this and I can finally go to bed!"

For a long moment neither of them said anything - both stared at each other in shock. 

Liquid couldn't help it then, he sank down to the floor like the petulant child he was, buried his face against his knees and tried not to scream in frustration. He could feel Mantis staring at him, probably judging him for that little outburst. 

"Go away..." he cried when Mantis sat down on the floor next to him, his back against the door.

"No. I'm not leaving you like this, boss. You shouldn't be alone right now."

Liquid raised his head far enough to glare at Mantis. "But I want to be alone!" he hissed. 

"Do you really?" 

"...I don't know..." 

They were silent again. Even if Liquid had wanted to cry, by this point no tears came out and instead he dry-sobbed into his towel. 

"...why aren't you mad at me?" he asked almost too quietly for Mantis to hear.

“I- I know that you would not have gone if I had said you couldn’t,” Mantis said. “Because I didn’t voice any objection, you couldn’t think of a way to decline even if the whole mission made you… uncomfortable…”

“So you’re saying it’s your fault I even went in the first place?”

“I am only voicing your own thoughts, boss...”

Liquid wiped his face with his arm pointlessly. “I didn’t want to do this. I’m not that kind of spy. I wasn’t trained for this kind of thing.”

“I know. You got too emotionally involved. That’s not an accusation,” Mantis added quickly, then tentatively put his arm around Liquid’s shoulders. “It is not your fault. Even specially trained charm agents can get mixed up like that.”

“I feel awful. What have I done? It would have been easier if they had just asked me to kill her! Instead she was… she was  _ nice _ to me,” he finished lamely. How pathetic could he  _ be? _

“Just calm down. She seemed like the type of woman who can handle a situation like this.” Mantis squeezed his hand. “You should go to sleep.”

Liquid leaned into his touch and let himself be taken to bed. Somehow, despite everything, Mantis didn't abandon him; didn't walk away and shut him out in betrayal. He just shrugged off his own clothes and slid into bed next to Liquid, not daring to wrap his arms around him fully, but firmly pressing his hand against Liquid's nape, steadying him against the onslaught of emotion wailing up in his chest.

"I'm not going to leave you, Eli," Mantis whispered against his shoulder and Liquid relaxed slightly.

"...would you do it if I did something like this again?" he asked carefully, turning his head in the dark.

He couldn't see Mantis’ eyes through the lenses of his mask.

"...no, boss. I could never," Mantis mumbled after a while. "Though I'd probably be furious with you..."

Liquid nodded firmly. "Me too."

Mantis’ grip on him tightened slightly and he said something else that Liquid couldn't quite make out as he eventually felt himself dozing off, finally,  _ finally _ with nothing on his mind but a comforting warmth and that peculiar, sour trickle of leftover guilt.


End file.
